Chapter 4 Molly
Molly
Elijah is making my blood boil with every thoughtful ‘ah’ and ‘hm’ as he listens when I can see not a single thought behind those eyes.
I had a moment of weakness when he thanked me and looked at me like a puppy who was grateful I adopted him. He seemed sincere, and a bit overwhelmed, and it made him more endearing. Almost… charming?
He’s like those sad commercials trying to get you to donate money to help abandoned pets and I will not let myself be manipulated by his tactics again.
I’m half a mile in on the treadmill when my phone lights up with an incoming call from Hailey.
I consider dodging it; not sure how I’ll pretend that my life in soulless corporate land is just peachy today, but I dodged her last two calls, and I dread the inevitable confrontation of why haven’t you been picking up? Are you depressed again?
Yes, Hailey, I really, really am.
She’s been my best friend since grad school when we were put in the same orientation group.
She glommed onto me, said she liked my style and kind of disagreeable disposition, invited me to a High School Musical marathon at her apartment, and the rest is history.
When I had a bad day then, she’d recommend something like a movie, an at-home facial, or maybe splurging on bagels.
Now, ten years later, her solution to any dips in my mental health is to suggest that I free myself from the shackles of capitalism and submit my writing to competitions and to literary agents.
Hailey’s parents are rich as sin, generous, live part of the year in a big brownstone and the rest of the year in their beach house, thus she doesn’t have to pay rent or require a full-time job to secure health insurance.
So of course, her months are spent scheduling auditions, going to rehearsals, and going out for cast drinks on the weekend–only one or two because, Mol, everyone’s so professional here!
‘Hi, Hail,’ I answer on my headphones, slowing the treadmill to a walking pace.
‘You sound like you’re doing Zumba but, like, without the fun music.’
‘It’s called exercising, and yes, I am doing that.’
‘Boring,’ she says, though I know she goes to a 6 a.m. pilates class every morning. Her abs are insane.
Hailey’s whole bag is musical theatre, so not only can she act, she can also act while singing and dancing.
Freak of nature type. She’s dragged me to a few evening dance classes over the years, but as one dance instructor so kindly said, my body doesn’t give what it needs to be giving when I try to dance.
‘They let you work out in the middle of the day now? How progressive of them.’
‘It’s my lunch break.’ I take a long sip of water. ‘Lunch breaks are, notably, not progressive, but required by law.’
I hear the beep of a microwave on the other end of the line, she’s probably preparing her own lunch.
Only, her lunches are from those healthy food-delivery companies that create nutritionally sound and delicious single-serving meals.
Love that for her. I will be having the last serving of the breakfast casserole I made Saturday.
‘Did you get that promotion, by the way?’ she asks.
I try not to tense at the question–the totally friendly, innocent question–but talking to Hailey about work always gets me on edge.
I know she thinks I should be chasing my dreams instead of working for shareholders who don’t care about me, but again, she has a trust fund.
My parents are still paying off their mortgage in Utah, with hobbies of quilting and gardening.
‘No, unfortunately.’
‘Oh, Mol.’ She sounds way too sympathetic, and it immediately makes me want to do something embarrassing like cry, so I do what I am especially good at: divert.
‘It’s whatever. Hey, what’s it called when you kill one of your coworkers?’ I ask.
Hailey lets out a surprised laugh. ‘Um, murder?’
‘But what if it’s justified?’
She hums, considering it. ‘Yep, still murder!’
‘Damn.’ I wipe down the treadmill and drop down on a mat to stretch. Hailey’s laugh is light and loud like a bell. It always makes me feel a little better.
‘Who are we killing? Kenneth?’ she asks.
‘Good memory, but no. He’s maybe third in our murder priority list. Ahead of him is the new guy who took the promotion I wanted and my boss for making me train said new guy.’
Hailey gasps. ‘He did not.’
‘Oh, but he did. And while I’m at it, I need to smile more–be friendlier to show the higher-ups I’m a team player.’
‘Molly, you’re joking. Please tell me you’re joking, and you don’t actually live in a sexist corporate simulation created to make you want a lobotomy.’
‘Dearly wish that I was.’ I lean further into my stretch.
I’m inclined to defend myself, say it’s not that bad, remind her that lots of people work horrible corporate jobs and mine could be worse.
I don’t, though, because with Elijah’s blank stare still fresh in my mind, I know she’s right. This place sucks ass.
‘What’s he like? The new guy, not your boss.’
‘God, Hailey.’ I groan and sit back on my palms. ‘He’s so bad. Wilfully obtuse about easy shit. I am guessing he’s related to someone on the hiring committee. Only thing I can imagine since I don’t think that man knows a thing about computers.’
‘How old is he? Don’t tell me he’s fresh out of college.’
‘No, he’s probably thirty? Thirty-five? He looks young, but also like he has some lines around his eyes and mouth? Doesn’t matter, he’s making me insane.’
‘Molly,’ Hailey starts, her voice low and suspicious. ‘Is he hot?’
Romantic that she is, Hailey is always hoping that every person I meet is secretly the love of my life. I don’t know how to accurately express that no way on this green Earth is Elijah my soulmate.
Fated enemy, perhaps.
‘He’s hideous,’ I lie.
She snorts. ‘Okay, so yes.’
‘You’re being delusional.’ I get up from the mat. ‘I just told you he’s the worst, stop trying to ship us.’
‘I never said anything about shipping you, only that he’s probably hot if you’re so mad. Like him being hot makes it worse that he’s also a dick.’
‘Have you ever once passed the Bechdel test?’ I ask instead of agreeing with her assessment of my feelings towards my new colleague. She cackles and I glare as if she can see me through the phone. Maybe she can feel the glare across the city.
‘Should we get dumplings tonight?’ she asks.
I do love dumplings, but if she’s inviting me over with the goal of getting me to run lines with her again, I will develop a permanent eye twitch. Maybe that could work in my favour with Elijah–if he’s a little afraid of me and my one angry eye, he won’t act so clueless.
Sighing, I head for the locker room. ‘I have plans.’
‘With who?’ she asks.
‘Mmm, Robert Pattinson and Kristin Stewart?’ I am a believer that some days can really only be saved by a Twilight viewing.
Hailey laughs. ‘Bitch. I’ll get the dumplings and see you three at seven-thirty.’
‘Deal.’ I sigh.
Now just to get through the rest of the day with him.